With a spring in her step
by Marjorie Nescio
Summary: Taking a walk with her granddaughter the Queen is questioned about her friends Joseph and 'B'.


Author's note: it's the first day of spring so it's Wild Mei Ling's birthday. This story serves as my present to her. It is set after my fanfics _The weekenders_ and _Field day_ but it can be read independently. It more or less features an OC the birthday girl rather likes.

Gefeliciteerd jarige job!

With a spring in her step

"Are you still working?" Amelia asked. "I thought I'd take you for a walk in the garden."

Queen Clarisse looked up from her writing. Her granddaughter's hands were fisting the pockets of her denim jacket. Amelia didn't smile, yet she looked lovely. She also looked a bit out of place. Clarisse wondered what changes the seventeen year old would make to her office once she'd taken over the throne.

_Maybe she'll grace the walls with posters of movies and bands?_

"And yes: I wore this outfit when the spokesman gave me my media-training. No other Genovians saw me."

Clarisse refrained from replying. Instead she looked outside to check the weather. The forecast had said that there'd be sun in the afternoon but the sky was grey.

Amelia sighed. "Wanna finish that?" she said, sounding offended.

_What have I done?_

"I'll finish my letter later on darling."

Clarisse got a shawl from a chair and wrapped it around her upper body.

"Very elegant," Amelia said, sounding slightly envious.

Clarisse wasn't sure she'd enjoy her walk with her granddaughter. Then again, the girl could have taken a walk by herself, so she must want to talk to her.

_Or maybe Joseph has hinted that _I_ could do with a break? She probably wasn't moody to him._

They exited through French doors leading to a terrace. Amelia complained about what the spokesman had told her: "Use this phrase, don't use that phrase, never say you support this or that cause. I told him I would always say that it's good to eat less meat, even if I were at a congress of stock farmers."

The girl sounded defiant. Clarisse hummed and said: "Less meat being eaten will result in smaller farms but if the animals are treated well and get biological food, the price per kilo will rise. Farmers won't be the worse for it. They can also pride themselves in helping the environment."

"Yeah."

Clarisse was pleased that she'd gained Amelia's approval and she hoped that the girl had picked up on her unspoken lesson of 'it's the tone that makes the music'.

"But what if something sucks, like female circumcision. Could you come up with something positive too?"

_Ah, she got it. Good._

"If those now executing that dreadful 'surgery' find themselves jobless they'll fight change tooth and nail. If they get paid to inform people that it endangers women and that girls won't turn loose when they don't have to suffer circumcision than they'll be the best ambassadors possible."

Mia sighed. "I can see how that would work. But somehow it doesn't seem fair. Those people hurt girls in a horrible way that can't be undone. And even suggesting that having a clitoris means that you're halfway to being a loose woman is deeply insulting."

Clarisse felt slightly awkward about a mere word being used but she didn't miss a beat: "I agree. But remember what water dripping on a rock will do to it. What else did Mr Delgana share?"

"I can only use secured computers and phones and such. He went on and on about me having to be very careful with sending emails and texts and tweets."

Clarisse nodded. She distrusted all modern devices.

"Grandma! That's the way people communicate these days!"

"Last month you were upset about a tweet sent by someone about you."

"Because it went global hello! I lost my shoe. That doesn't mean that I've lost my wits."

"Tweets are sent by thumbs, not brains. What if you'd hurt your foot when you lost your shoe? A swiftly written 'funny' comment would have been particularly ungracious in that case."

From the corner of her eye Clarisse noticed that Amelia looked thoughful. Clarisse pointed out some emerging buds and she was pleased when she made her granddaughter, who liked nature as a whole, but couldn't care for particular plants, smile at her enthusiasm.

"Say is that why you still write real letters? Whom did you write to just now?"

"My Dutch friend."

"Your royal friend, right? And she uses pen and paper too?"

"Well yes."

Mia laughed at her grandmother's puzzled look.

"They do have phones in the Netherlands you know."

"We are both queens. Our correspondence may be of interest for historians."

"That's why you write?" Mia asked incredously.

"It's also relaxing and a good exercize in retorics."

"Do you keep in mind that there will be others reading your letters? Like if you think viscount Mabrey is an ass, do you write that down?"

"Queens don't call people that darling."

_We refer to him as 'the eel'. But I won't tell you that for you might accidentally use that nickname in public. In a tweet._

"Right! I'll just have to wait for the historians then."

"For however long I'll live after today plus fifty years," Clarisse said with a smirk.

"What?!"

"A similar timeline applies for my friend's letters."

"Great. You know, I might send Lilly a real letter too. Make her laugh."

"She'll like it, you'll see. Keep a copy of your letter though."

"Why?"

"So in case she replies, you'll have both sides of the correspondence. You'll appreciate that in years to come. Also it may serve as proof for what you've written."

"Common!"

"Lilly won't play you false, I'm sure, but others might."

"You like Lilly, don't you?"

"Yes I do! She's bright, kind and original."

Amelia linked her arm through Clarisse's. "And great fun. Do you and your Dutch friend have fun? Were you friends at first sight, like Lill and me? When did you meet? And where?"

"Amelia," Clarisse said in mock exasperation.

It started to drizzle but Clarisse wasn't bothered by it, not while her granddaughter was acting like her usual kind self again.

"Yeah yeah. Don't fire questions, people are nervous enough as it is. But you're not 'people', are you?"

"No I'm not little one. To answer your first question: your aunt Beatrix and I enjoy each other's company very much."

"Aunt?"

"That's what her daughters call me."

"Right. What about how you met? You and 'aunt Beatrix'."

"We met when she came to Genovia for my bridesmaids' dress fitting."

"That's when you _met_?" Amelia cried out. An alarmed gardener working near a fountain looked over his shoulder and quickly set to work again.

"You didn't know her before? That's weird grandma!"

"A royal wedding is run by protocol."

"Sure, but not being able to appoint your own bridesmaids… It's a miracle you didn't turn out a lunatic with all these crazy rules."

Clarisse laughed. Mia grinned along.

"So you two met and you became friends?"

"We were both determined to become friends."

"Why were you so hesitant?"

"Calling someone a friend is easily done. But having a friend and being a friend is another thing all together."

Mia eyed the sky and freed her arm under the pretence of having to stretch.

"You always have a lesson to bestow on me don't you?"

"Nonsense. But if something makes sense to you than it's wise to take it to heart."

"Well, Lilly and I were on the same page from the start. You know, about being friends. Lill even said she could come and work for me once I'm crowned queen."

"I can see how appealing it is to have her close by but she may be a more valuable friend if she remains independent."

"Joe is your friend and he works for you."

"Joseph is an employee who became a friend. It's different: we are used to being in a hierarchical relationship. When we work we're simply two professionals."

"Ha!"

"What?"

"You can be so daft at times. No insult meant."

Clarisse huffed in a way she'd heard Amelia describe to Lilly as 'cute haughtiness'. Anything to make Amelia think that she and Joseph were just friends and that she didn't have a clue as to what Amelia was referring to.

"Does Joe like You-Know-Who?"

"Voldemort?"

Mia laughed. "No, 'aunt Beatrix'."

Clarisse heard the quotation marks click in again but she reasoned that once Amelia had met B her granddaughter wouldn't have a need for them anymore.

"I was told by a reliable source that Joseph thinks of her as his second favourite queen."

Amelia hummed approvingly.

_She values Joseph's opinion even more than mine. Dear Joseph._

"And I'm sure you will like her too Amelia," Clarisse said, hoping to steer the girl away from the cliffs of Joseph. "Possibly at first sight, like I did."

"Yeah, tell me. You met in a bridal shop?"

_Here shows her upbringing. Sweet girl._

"The dresses were brought to the castle by the designer's right hand man and the fitting took place there."

"Who made them?"

"I don't know who actually made them. They were designed by Pierre Balmain, who –"

"No way! Balmain! That is so awesome! Did he also make your wedding gown?"

"Yes he did."

"Oh man, Balmain! Was he at the fitting?"

Clarisse had on more than one occasion reminded her granddaughter to pay attention to what people said, but she didn't care to criticize her presently.

"He was there when I fitted my gown. He didn't come over for the bridesmaids' dresses. Now, before the fitting there was a lunch."

"Did you know any of them? Did you have a say in it at all?"

Clarisse's awkward childhood with private tutors had resulted in her not having anyone to ask to accompany her on her wedding day but even if she had her father would have made her choose two cousins she had only seen a handful of times.

"I was allowed to select two bridesmaids myself. I asked my cousins Bernadette and Jeanne," Clarisse said, not wanting Amelia to pity her.

"Who brought in the others?"

"Your grandfather had a cousin Marie who was asked. He also had two goddaughters, Solange and Davina. Princess Beatrix was the youngest at fifteen. Her father was a friend of your great-grandfather."

"So how did it go? You meeting everyone I mean. Were you nervous?"

Clarisse gestured at the gazebo and Amelia nodded: the drizzle wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"I was, but a couple of days before the meeting Jeanne called me and she was so anxious about the whole thing that I calmed down."

"That is so you grandma," Amelia said. Clarisse smiled at her.

"So you got to know everyone during lunch? Just you girls? That sounds nice."

"I thought it would be. However, the King made his Master of Ceremony, who was feared among the staff, supervise the butlers who were serving us."

"Ha! So it was like having you supervise me mastering cutlery," Amelia said. There was no spite in her words but Clarisse faltered for just a moment.

"What?" Amelia said. Clarisse tried to keep her expression neutral, but unsuccesfully so.

"No grandma, I didn't mean it that way. It's just…Having someone who knows exactly how to do something watch you do that very something can be… awkward?"

"Sweetheart, I never meant –"

"I know! I really do."

"I just want you –" Clarisse started, raising her voice to prevent Amelia from interrupting, "to know the rules so you won't unintentionally break them."

"Aha! So I may do so knowingly?"

Clarisse felt humbled by having been a cause of anxiety for her granddaughter but she took heart from Amelia's light tone.

"Witty girl. Your aunt Beatrix did just that. At the bridesmaids' lunch."

"Shoot!"

Clarisse didn't remind Amelia that 'Shoot!' wasn't to be used in civil conversation. She wouldn't even comment a 'Shut up!' right now.

"Well, I'd done some research and I knew that Solange liked to ride and that Jeanne was fond of ballet and so on. The Dutch princess had prepared herself for the gathering as well and to my relief we were soon chatting along. Then the Master of Ceremony entered."

"It's MC for short grandma."

"In a club: yes. In a castle: no."

Amelia grinned. "What did he do?"

"The Master of Ceremony - it _is_ quite a mouthful isn't it? I'll refer to him as the baron from now on –"

"A baron to order the butlers around? Your world is really weird grandma."

_Oh sweetheart. That's how your world will be too. Weirder still I fear._

"The baron was to supervise the servants. I don't know whether the King gave him subsequent orders, but he took it upon himself to –"

"Be supervising you as well? Seriously?" Amelia interrupted as they entered the gazebo.

Clarisse recalled how the baron had stared at her as if she, daughter of a count and a descendant of kings, was utterly unsuitable to marry the heir to the throne.

"He didn't but I didn't appreciate the way he acted."

"Yeah, I can totallly see how you and the Dutch queen call Mabrey 'a somewhat meddling gentleman'."

Clarisse laughed, and shook some raindrops of her shawl.

Amelia continued: "That baron was bloody annoying I bet. What did he do to _lose your appreciation_?"

Clarisse smiled at the girl's posh accent at the end of her line, even though she knew it was meant to mock her. It was playful mockery though, and that made the difference. She sat down on a bench and so did Amelia, though the girl sat cross-legged. To Clarisse this too meant that Amelia felt at ease with her.

"At one point the baron approached Jeanne, took the fork from her hand and told her in an audible whisper that a salad was to be eaten with a salad fork. Jeanne turned red. Then princess Beatrix put down her own salad fork, used her regular fork to have a bite and declared that she understood why Jeanne had selected that fork instead."

"Ha!"

"I took up the wrong fork as well and asked the princess something ballet related. She pretended to be ignorant and we asked Jeanne for help."

"And thus ended the battle of the salad fork! I would have wanted to be friends with her too grandma. Were you always close?"

Clarisse thought of her long solid friendship with B. Soon after their meeting their budding friendship could have ended for she had become a married woman while B was still a schoolgirl. After returning from her wedding trip a letter from the Netherlands had awaited her though that didn't dedicate a single word to school or homework, but expressed the hope that she and Rupert had had a pleasant time, as well as including the first of many subtle hints as on how to handle courtiers. There had been times when B's letters had been life-savers.

Clarisse had written B about Rupert's infidelities, hoping and later knowing that B would be supportive. To B she could complain about the down sides of being a queen, such as having to act ladylike all the time. Clarisse recalled B admiring baby Pierre and how she'd not only been her first 'own' visitor, but also the first to see Pierre as just a babe. This last recollection Clarisse shared with Amelia, who didn't understand why it was a showcase of friendship.

"To her my child wasn't a prince," Clarisse explained.

_Back then I was glad that to B he wasn't a future king. If only he would have-_

Clarisse broke off her train of thought.

"To her he was my little boy."

_And he'll always be one of my boys._

"Ah, that's cute!"

_She tilts her head just like her father did._

"Do you guys ever go on a holiday together?"

Unstoppable some lyrics popped up in Clarisse's mind. _Que sera sera, whatever will be will be_. The song was a bit wistful, but to her its title was connected with love. The future was clear before her: Amelia on her throne and Joseph by her side.

_If it hadn't been for B, would Joseph and I have become a couple? Would we be one still?_

Clarisse shivered.

"It is getting chillier isn't it grandma? The rain is much worse now."

Amelia got up and walked to the entrance. "Look at that sky! We'd better wait here for a while or we'll get soaked."

"I agree. To answer your earlier question: your aunt and I don't see each other often. Sometimes a few years pass by between meetings. We write each other a lot though."

Clarisse felt a bit guilty for not telling her granddaughter about the mansion in Spain Beatrix and she owned. Amelia would want to spend time there and that would result in a frustrating lack of privacy for her 'friend' Joseph and her. Telling Amelia about the true nature of their relationship might result in the whole world knowing. Clarisse had been through too much to take the risk yet.

"Writing isn't like - Oh look, there comes Joe with an umbrella. He's like a modern knight, don't you think? He just knows what you need," Amelia said, adding a theatrical wink.

"He does indeed. But I'd say he's rather attuned to you as well," Clarisse said with an innocent smile.

Sitting down in her previous spot Amelia acknowledged that Joe had been great to her.

"How did you know he was your friend for real grandma?" the girl gave it another try, only barely stressing the word 'friend'.

_Being persistent is a good characteristic for a ruler…_

"In the same way I realised your aunt Beatrix was my friend: when I found myself being me when we were together."

Clarisse half expected that Amelia would ask her what 'being me' meant but the girl merely nodded.

"Is that what you came to realise after the fitting? Did it go well? No one was nagging about the colour not suiting their complexion or anything?"

Clarisse found it endearing that Amelia believed that the bridesmaids would have voiced any complaints to the bride of the crown-prince. It was truly wonderful that Amelia had made a friend at high school who'd known the old Mia and who would keep challenging her.

_Just as Joseph and B do for me. _

"No one complained. And there was no need for it either: every compliment I gave them was heartfelt."

Amelia fondly looked at her grandmother. "'Cause that's you, you silly. No insult meant."

"Crazy girl," Clarisse said, feeling moved. "Anyway, the baron was there as well…"

"I sense trouble ahead."

"You're not referring to me, are you Princess?" Joseph said as he stepped into the gazebo and smoothly took down his wet umbrella. He then formally greeted Clarisse.

"Hi Joe! Grandma was just telling me about a baron who was present at her bridesmaids' fitting. Have a seat!"

Clarisse nodded her consent for appearances had to be kept up. Joseph inclined his head and sat down, making Amelia sit in the middle. The girl seemed a bit confused.

"There aren't any camera's here right?" she asked.

"No Princess, there aren't," Joseph confirmed.

"Okay," Amelia said in an undertone.

_Look at them. They could pass for grandfather and granddaughter._

"Was this baron troublesome?" Joseph inquired.

"Oh yeah! Story update: grandma's bridesmaids, she only knew two of them, did you know? They got out of the dressing room, not on the wedding day, but for a fitting a month earlier. Grandma praised their appearances," Amelia informed Joseph. She turned to her left. "And then what grandma?"

"The six of them were standing there in their ice blue gowns ," Clarisse started. She was interrupted by her granddaughter who whispered to Joe: "Balmain gowns. Imagine!"

Clarisse let it pass. "They looked lovely and well pleased. The baron looked at them over the rim of his glasses and said that he was glad the dresses fitted. And then he looked at your aunt Beatrix and he added: 'Though some of you might want to lose some weight before the wedding.'"

Joseph frowned. Amelia exclaimed: "He didn't! That was mean! Was aunt Beatrix hurt?"

Clarisse vividly and proudly recalled her friend's immediate reply. The reply that had made her want to be B's friend. "She gave the man a dazzling smile, and said: 'My plumpness will make the bride look even more beautiful baron. I wouldn't for the world go on a diet.'"

Joseph's eyes sparkled. Amelia laughed out loud, repeated what her grandmother had just cited and started laughing again.

Clarisse smiled. She smiled for having B for a friend. She smiled because Amelia and Joseph got along so well. She smiled because there'd be a day when she could grab Joseph's hand at a moment like this.

_Que sera sera, whatever will be will be._ She didn't fear it in the least.


End file.
